Protective Guardianship
by CodependentLiza
Summary: Codependent Liza at her most codependent! Twenty-something Edward asserts control over former schoolmate and lifelong love Bella (the mother of James's child) in an unconventional way. Sure to be highly offensive to independent types viewing vulnerable need as imagined at best and immoral at worst, but perhaps comforting to those often beset by overwhelming emotional pain. EXB, AH


**Hi! Crazy C-L here. Been a rough winter for me, so am awfully slow on the story updates—sorry about that. The following is one of the side stories that pop up in my brain from time to time; what better way to procrastinate writing fanfiction than by writing fanfiction? I offer it to the most emotionally regressed and desperate (like me) or the least-easily-offended of you as a peace offering, and a sign of my intent to finish everything I start on here, though it take an obscenely long time. **

**But beware—even I am a little creeped out by this Edward's actions, and am 100% certain that this would be a horror story with anyone else in the real or fictional universe besides Edward M. Cullen at his most loyal, loving and trustworthy. In other words, in real life, this scenario would suck big time. **

**Now on that eloquent note, I give you the one-shot "Protective Guardianship." And of course, I give Stephenie Meyer all the thankful credit and acknowledge she has all the ownership for everything Twilight, knowing she most likely would want nothing to do with this iteration of Edward. That's all on me, and despite my warnings here, I'm not sorry. He's a good guy, just a little clueless and slow-to-act, then requiring some dramatic overcorrection. But he LOVES her, and it's not a selfish love, and that's what makes it okay in Liza's book on life (due to hit the presses any decade now, ha ha). **

**Be well, and know that College Rescue will update soon. Now if only someone would rescue me ;).**

**XXXXXX**

At the end of Bella's divorce proceedings, the family court hearing having gone ahead after her now ex-husband James was arrested that very morning for physically threatening and attempting to assault her, the judge surprises Bella by moving onto a new topic after granting the divorce and giving Bella full legal custody of her and James' young daughter, Lucy.

"Sometimes, when an otherwise legal-age adult suffers from a behavioral disorder, addiction, or degenerative illness, or otherwise seems to be unable to take care of themselves, concerned parties – sometimes the state, but also possibly relatives or friends – will file a petition with the courts for appointment of guardianship. Sometimes, the court is asked to appoint a guardian, sometimes, as in the petition before the court now, an appropriate and willing guardian is already identified."

Bella's confused look lifts, as if understanding has suddenly broken over her, and she speaks up, saying "Oh, James petitioned to be my guardian? But won't that be easily dismissed given…" here she slows down a little, and the certainty leaves her voice, being replaced with embarrassed hesitation, "um, everything else that's happened today?" She ends in a quiet and shy voice, her head ducking, looking up at the judge through lowered eyes.

Edward's heart clenches in fear over her reaction when she finds out it isn't James behind the petition to remove her adult privileges, and responsibilities. But he is certain it is what she needs, and what is in her best interest, even if it dooms their future relationship only to the protectively paternal role he is fully expecting to assume in the next few minutes. He knows there will be no other woman for him, he knows he wants Bella in every way, but with his whole heart he believes she only needs his caretaking right now, and everything else – especially the romantic and sexual pieces – need to wait for some future time when she has healed from the trauma of what has happened with James.

So he doesn't waver in his determination, and instead looks confidently up at the judge while simultaneously reaching out his hand and laying it on Bella's shoulder, physically bracing her for the words the judge now feels ready to utter, having gauged from Edward's look and action exactly what Edward meant to convey: I'm not relenting, this is for the best, let's get on with it.

The judge himself had been somewhat ambivalent, but believes it best to err on the side of protecting Bella, in addition to the respect he has for the standing of the Cullens, even of Edward himself, in their community. He also feels an avuncular responsibility to Bella, given his prior relationship with her dead father, and he is outraged and saddened by the course her life has taken over the last few years. So he too lets his ambivalence go – something he's had much practice with as a judge with many years' experience – and plows ahead in explaining the request for protective guardianship that he has already decided to grant.

"No, my dear, [he allows himself this liberty, as homage to Charlie and reaction to Bella's own self], it is not your now-former husband who has requested protective guardianship of you. It is Edward Cullen."

The words fall and echo in the now-silent hearing room, as Bella stares at the judge, a shocked expression on her face, her jaw having dropped open. After some moments have passed, everyone's eyes on her, she turns slowly to look at Edward, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder, and asks, in utter confusion and disbelief, simply, "Why?"

He smiles at her, reaching his other hand out to cup her cheek, and responds with confidence and no visible hesitation, "To keep you safe, sweetheart; to take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of."

Bella is starting to pale as she takes in his words, and shame is building like a crescendo inside as she realizes how mistaken she was – or now thinks she was – in imagining that he would want to be romantically involved with her. As the enormity of her apparent miscalculation of his intent and interest slams down on her psyche, an intense blush rises from her chest, staining her neck, cheeks and ears with the deep red of humiliation. Fighting back tears, Bella can only nod once, ever so slightly, as her head drops precipitously, chin to her chest.

Edward watches this transformation in agony, realizing too late the potential for her to misinterpret his actions as a romantic rejection instead of an interlude to their future. He sees now too his enormous error in assuming her primary reaction to his petition would be anger at his presumptuousness; he almost snorts at his own arrogance and stupidity in once more failing to recognize her difference from the other women in his life. Sure, Rose, even Alice would be livid at such an assertion of their inadequacy to care for themselves; but Bella – she would have let him lead her without the law's involvement, he feels belatedly certain. Why, he desperately tries to remember, did he think the formality of this was so important?

A measure of relief comes with a deep breath as he reminds himself of the ways she had made herself vulnerable to James, and how easily she was talked into bad situations. More relief comes, along with the return of certainty, as he reminds himself of how easily she assumes she is not wanted, or a burden, and her tendency to take reckless action with herself in order to correct, in her own mind only, her burdensome nature, making far more problems as a result and exposing herself to unnecessary and intolerable risk.

A smile returns to his face and his shoulders lose their tension as he reminds himself of the long future lying before them, in which he will have all the luxury of correcting her misapprehensions now, with the safeguard of legal guardianship cementing her to him for the foreseeable future. It is from this place of confidence and certainty that Edward returns his eyes to the judge, giving tacit approval for the judge to continue with the formality of reading into the record the petition itself, and the judge's reasons for granting it.

Perhaps mercifully – though Bella will in a few weeks be very determined to find out what was said, going so far as to request a copy of the hearing transcript, but being unable to get one without Edward's approval, approval which he refuses to give, not believing it to be in her best interest, and precipitating the final enormous tantrum and attempt to flee on Bella's part, before she gives in completely to Edward – Bella hears none of this, her ears pounding with the blood flow of humiliation, her attention, as much as was available in her shock, focused on containing the sobs within.

She has no idea how long she has been sitting there, unaware of everything around her, when Edward leans down to her and, speaking low into her ear, (his hand has remained on her shoulder this whole time, never breaking the physical contact he knows is so central to her sense of safety), Edward says, with calm and loving patience, "Bella, sweetheart, the judge would like to ask you a question. Can you try to listen now, please, honey?"

Though it might not seem possible, Bella flushes hotter at what she takes as a criticism of her behavior in the courtroom, and realizes she has unintentionally been providing evidence of her inadequacies.  
Anger with herself at this realization causes her head to shoot up again, and her attention to sharpen on the judge, who has paused in his speaking and is studying her, smiling when he sees that she is cognizant of him again.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you recovering from your shock, Isabella. We were worried about you for a moment," he adds kindly.

"I'm just fine, Your Honor," Bella responds quietly, but firmly. She's determined not to be given to Edward to care for. Her pride can't take it. Her pride's about to be thoroughly destroyed. "I was just… surprised."

She thinks about how surprised she was, and starts, finally, to get angry. "Edward – I mean, Mr. Cullen [Edward and his father both smile at this, but Esme and the lawyer are getting worried] – never said anything to me about his plans." Raising her head further, and pulling back her shoulders, she adds, "Not one word." She closes her eyes briefly and thinks about Lucy, then looks straight at the judge and goes for the jugular. "Instead, Mr. Cullen has been regularly encouraging me to reflect on how competent I am, and has offered all sorts of evidence of what a great job I do as Lucy's mother, and how lucky she is to have me."

Blushing slightly, and her voice quality regaining just a hint of tentativeness, she continues, "Not that I mean to brag, and not that I haven't made plenty of mistakes, but I really think I am a good mother, and I will be even better in the future. I promise you." Now her desperation is clear, and the fear in her at the idea of losing her daughter can be seen even by those not on the receiving end of her pleading gaze.

The judge is happy to reassure her, and Edward too is grateful to believe for the moment that her concerns are all about remaining in the role of Lucy's mother. "Now my dear, no one has said for one moment that you aren't a superb mother," the judge responds to her in a consoling tone. "Not even your ex-husband had criticism for your parenting, except perhaps to claim that you doted on the child too much, but I can tell you how much the court prefers to hear about too much love for a child than too little."

Isabella smiles tentatively, deciding to feel relieved at the judge seeing her point of view and worry later about what the hell Edward was thinking, and what that all meant for her future interactions with the Cullens, when the rug was pulled out from under her as the judge continued in his fatherly, explanatory tone. "A person who is placed under protective guardianship can still continue as a mother, and a daughter, and a friend; they can do most of what they did before and try new things too, maybe going to school or to counseling sorts of classes; they can even work a certain number of hours if the guardian approves. The only change is that there is this person, this guardian, looking out for their best interests, and taking an active role in shaping their life so that it can be safer, and happier, than it was before."

Bella's stomach has dropped as she realizes that the judge is talking as if Edward's guardianship of her is no big deal, is maybe – her stomach clenches as she thinks this – a done deal. She swallows back vomit as the judge continues, "There are a few practical changes as well. You won't be able to drive during the period a guardian is assigned your care, nor will you be able to vote or buy property or make independent investments. Your guardian will manage your funds, or appoint someone else to do so, and you will have more time and energy to put into your mothering, or into other activities your guardian sets for you to do."

Bella is horrified, and so overwhelmed all she can manage to say is: "But I'm an adult," in a weak whisper.

"Physically, yes, my dear, but from a legal standpoint, your status as an adult is changed once an order for protective guardianship is issued." The judge sees that Bella is becoming greatly distressed, and tries to help her feel better about the changes facing her. "I tell people in your situation to think of it as getting another chance at adolescence. The adolescent members of society, usually high-schoolers, if you will, have a chance to try on many of the adult roles available to them in life, without the same degree of responsibility as they will have later, and with more protection and guidance provided to help them learn and develop. This is the opportunity you have again now, Isabella, to grow stronger, and maybe learn to make some better choices with someone who cares about you helping you along the way, and shaping those choices with an eye only for your well-being."

Edward is growing concerned about the implied criticism of Bella's past in the judge's words, and doesn't think any amount of time in Edward's care will change the loving, relational and emotionally-dependent way in which Bella makes her choices, nor does he want it to. So he intervenes. "With all due respect, Judge Leavitt, I filed for guardianship in order to provide Bella with a safe transition away from destructive influences in her life, influences that she is faultless in having suffered under. I don't want to change Bella," he underscored, "I just want to keep her safe, and for the time being, I think being her legal guardian is the best way to accomplish that."

The judge nods, is about to speak some more, but Edward quickly turns to Bella, now staring at the floor again trying to compose herself, and adds quietly, "I hope someday you can understand that, Sweetheart, and forgive me for springing this on you today."

Bella hears him, and nods, but her heart isn't in it, and he knows it, and _his_ heart breaks a little. The judge however is cheered by the exchange, however brief, and also heartened by Edward's words, feeling it confirms the wisdom of the decision he had already made. "Well, there you have it, Isabella, proof positive of how this arrangement is going to work for you. Mr. Cullen is clearly very tuned in to and appreciative of your nature, and is quite right to point out to the court the degree of your blamelessness in the mess we've been unraveling today."

Now feeling quite cheerful indeed about the happy ending he believes to be unfolding in front of him, the judge leans forward a bit and confides in Bella, "You know, Isabella, it is very rare for a person in my position to feel that there is a best-case scenario available to him or her for the choosing."

Leaning back, he says in a more authoritative tone, "That is why it gives me great pleasure today to assign Isabella Marie Swan into the protective guardianship of Edward Masen Cullen, for the period of one year, at which time there will be a hearing to determine whether said guardianship will be continued. As a formal matter, legal custody of Lucy Emmons Swan is extended to Esme and Carlisle Cullen, but as a practical matter, it is understood that Isabella Swan will maintain custody and physical supervision of her child, so long as she remains in residence with the Cullens, or in such living situation as Miss Isabella Swan, Mr. Edward Cullen, and Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle Cullen shall find mutually agreeable. In case of disagreement, final decisions concerning the care and well-being of Miss Isabella Swan shall fall to Mr. Edward Cullen, and final decisions concerning the care and well-being of Lucy Emmons Swan shall fall to Esme and Carlisle Cullen. At the time, should it occur in the future, that Miss Swan's order for protective guardianship is lifted, full custody of her daughter, Lucy Emmons Swan, shall be restored to her without prejudice. The court further underscores that Miss Swan's parenting has not been the subject of inquiry or censure, and it is only for the sake of her own material well-being that this request has been approved, and order for protective guardianship executed."

Bella slumps against her chair, overwhelmed, dumbstruck and demoralized to the lowest level. Esme and Carlisle eye her nervously, Esme with considerable maternal guilt, knowing how desperate she would feel to have any legal constraints put on her ability to care for her children.

Meanwhile, Edward hovers, desperate for her to give him an inroad into reassuring and comforting her now. She gives him no opening, however, and just a few moments pass before the judge speaks again, this time back to his paternal tone.

"Do you have any questions, Isabella, before I adjourn the hearing?"

She sits up, sensing a last chance, and says "What recourse do I have, Sir? How do I appeal this decision?"

A little taken aback, the judge doesn't answer her right away, but instead responds with a question of his own. "Do you not trust Mr. Cullen to take good care of you, Isabella?" he asks, surprised given the degree of trust she had displayed towards Edward earlier in the day.

Shaking her head vehemently, Isabella says with clarity and passion, "It's not that, Your Honor. I… like Mr. Cullen very much, and am sure he only… has my best interests at heart. It's just that – that – I think he's wrong, Your Honor! I _don't_ need him to tell me what to do! I _can_ take care of myself, and Lucy! I have been, ever since she was born, Your Honor! Please don't take that away from me," she ends in a small, sad voice.

There is a pause in the courtroom, as the judge considers her speech. Bella feels the small flame of hope ignite, but it is soon extinguished by the judge's words. "My dear, nothing can take away from you the satisfaction of caring well for the people you love. Your daughter is, by all accounts, a happy, healthy child, and I have no doubt will continue that way, thanks in largest measure to your love for her."

Lifting her head, her eyes wide with hope, Bella then hears, "But I disagree with you, Isabella, concerning your ability to care for yourself, and I do believe – more so than ever, I must say – that you will benefit greatly from Mr. Cullen's advice, care and oversight." Edward can't help the smile that comes to his face at that, but it's wiped out by his view of Bella's horrified expression, and the shame and defeat rolling off her body in waves.

The judge senses the need, for Bella's sake and everyone else's as well, to draw the hearing to a close, and says with an air of finality, "I share Mr. Cullen's hope that before much time has passed, you will come to understand his decision as the act of love and respect for you that I believe it to be, and the wisdom of this court's decision to keep you safe from those who would harm you and therefore all who care about and depend on you, most especially your child. The decision of this court, granting Edward Cullen your guardianship, stands, but you are welcome to apply for representation by public defender and file a request for release from guardianship, or alternately or in addition a grievance against the actions of this court. There is a handout explaining the details, and listing the numbers to call to initiate this process, in the paperwork Mr. Cullen will be provided with; I trust that he will give that sheet to you, and facilitate, within a reasonable timeframe, the phone call to the public defenders' office if that is your wish."

There was a pause, before the judge continued, "However, I should caution you, my dear, that once placed in protective custody, it is very rare indeed for an individual to litigate his, or her, way out of it. You would be better advised to make the most of the opportunities afforded you now, and prove to the court through your actions your readiness to resume responsibility for yourself at the hearing in a year's time."

The lecturing over, Judge Leavitt returned to his more cheerful tone and wished them all well, before declaring the session adjourned and exiting the hearing room. He left an absolutely immobile Bella, a cautiously optimistic attorney, and three very concerned Cullens in his wake.

xXxXxX

As the door closed behind the exiting judge, I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It was done. I had done it. She was mine. There was an exultation rising within, but as I turned my head and took in her dejected – no, despondent – form, it sank down a bit, not disappearing but optimistically biding its time. I couldn't rejoice when the object of my rejoicing, of my love, of my future, was staring ahead with an expression on her face as if someone had died. Someone of crucial importance, whom she desperately loved. And then, reeling a little inside, I realized that someone was me. She thought I didn't love her, the way she deserved to be loved. I had to fix this. I had to fix her.

"Bella." It came out gravelly, too soft. I tried again.

"Bella. Look at me." Still no reaction. But now there were tears slipping down her cheeks.

I sighed. She could be stubborn. I knew this, but somehow I had naively hoped she wouldn't be stubborn with me. That's okay though. I can handle her. I said so.

"You can't avoid me forever, baby girl." She turned her head away from me with a small huff. I smiled. At least it was a reaction.

"Up we go," I said as I leaned in and picked her up, lifting her from her seat.

"Edward! Put me down!"

"No," I said cheerfully.

"Edward! I can walk!"

"I'm sure you can. What I'm not sure about is your walking in the direction I tell you to. So I think we'll do it this way for now."

"Edward, you're embarrassing me," she said as she turned in to my shoulder. Then, she whispered with tears in her voice, "Please?"

The old Edward would have put her down. But this was the new Edward, the responsible for Bella Swan Edward, and I wasn't putting her down. She would freak out and try to run away, and here in the courthouse, that could end badly with security guards getting involved and maybe even an ambulance being summoned. No, she wasn't getting out of my arms until I had her safely home. Then she could freak out on me.

I was moving as quickly as I could down the hall with the hearing rooms, to the administrative office in front, aiming for the doors to the courthouse lobby, when I felt a hand on my arm. I paused and turned to find my lawyer, who had stopped me in order to say, "Wait a minute, Edward. We need you to sign some paperwork at the clerk's desk. Oh, and we're going to need to turn in Isabella's driver's license."

I felt her body go rigid in my arms. Shit. "Can't it wait, Eric?" I asked, not expecting the answer to be yes. It wasn't.

"No, I'm afraid it can't. It shouldn't take too long, though. Can your folks watch her?" He eyed Bella nervously. He didn't want a scene either.

I turned around to see Mom and Dad walking cautiously down the hallway, holding hands, looking worried. They had good reason to be. Bella was completely unresponsive, and I wasn't even sure she was breathing at that point. Shit. I just had to get this over with, fast. "Mom, Dad? Could you sit with Bella for a minute please while I take care of some paperwork?"

They sped up in response to the urgency in my tone and expression, my Dad saying "Of course, Son," while my Mom said "Absolutely, dear. Can we find a private place, maybe?"

I turned to Eric, noticing for the first time all the other people spread out across the lobby area in front of us. He thought for a moment, then turned and spoke quietly with the clerk. They went back and forth a couple times, but then the clerk nodded, and picked up her phone to call somebody. Eric came back to me and explained, "There's a small hearing room, first door down the hallway. They're going to let us put her in there while you and I sort out the paperwork."

As he finished explaining this, a burly security guard came up and gestured with his head as he said, "You the Cullens? Come with me."

Unlocking the door after swiping his badge through the sensor to the side of the entry, he opened the door and held it open for us. I stepped in with Bella, followed by my Mom and Dad. Eric waited in the hallway. The security guard closed the door after saying, "Just let the front desk know when you're done in here. Any problems, hit that intercom button on the wall."

I nodded but doubt he saw me as he was already out the door. Turning around, I looked for the best place to set my girl down. There was a group of chairs in one of the back corners, three around a small table. They seemed a much better option than the other chairs directly in front of the judge's dais and conference tables in front. I headed for the middle chair, my parents following.

Kneeling, I sat Bella's limp body in the chair. "Sweetheart," I said in her ear, "I have to go take care of some business. I won't be gone long. Stay here with Carlisle and Esme, okay?"

No response. Holding her at the hips, I tried to pull my body away from hers. Her torso slumped, her head fell forward, her shoulders caved. I died a little more inside.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, we'll take care of her!" my mom interjected brightly, reaching for one of Isabella's limp hands. My dad looked less certain, but said quietly, "Just get out of here and get it over with so we can get her home."

I nodded, then with one last touch to my girl's cheek, I turned and left the room, still holding on to her purse which I had removed off the back of her chair when we had left the courtroom.

Eric was waiting for me in the hallway. "How's she doing in there?" he asked with concern as we both turned and walked quickly back to the lobby.

I took a deep breath and answered, "Not so well. Let's make this quick."

He nodded, and led the way back to the administrative clerk, who luckily had all the papers needing my signature in order. After Eric had obtained my copies, and his copies, of everything I signed, and after I had fished Isabella's driver's license out of her wallet and handed it over to be invalidated, feeling enormously guilty doing so, we were given the green light to be on our way. Eric shook my hand quickly, saying "I'll wait until you're safely out of here before I leave."

I flashed a grateful smile at him. "Thanks, man, for everything," I said, with great sincerity.

He smiled back. "You're welcome. Just please don't make me regret pulling the wool over my client's eyes. I could get in serious trouble over that, you know that, right?"

I laughed, saying "We could all get in trouble over this, from the judge on down, if it weren't for the fact that we're talking about Isabella Swan. And that's why she needed us to do this." There was a pause, and for just a split-second I felt that hideous uncertainty from the hearing resurface, and most unlike me, I asked for someone else's opinion, for reassurance. "You still agree, don't you?"

He smiled at me with more compassion and warmth than I would expect from a trial attorney. Guess that's why he came so highly recommended. "Yes. I still agree. Maybe more so, if I think about it. Her reaction – I mean, she's upset, but she's not pissed, you know what I mean? I think, no, I know, my girlfriend would have my balls if I tried what you just did." He ruefully laughed, and I grinned too. I knew his girlfriend, and she wouldn't just have had his balls; she'd have had them deep-fried, then embalmed before engraving them with her initials.

Then, serious again, he reached out and shook my hand. "Just take good care of her, and none of us will have any regrets."

I nodded. That I could do. And then I turned around to go get my girl.

xXxXxX

I was in shock. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. And when I could think, all I could think was one word: "Lucy," and then my brain shut down again.

Oh God, what did I do to deserve this? The despair rose, and I think I moaned, and my hands came up to grip my hair. I barely felt the pulling of the roots, but I felt Esme's hand seek mine out again, and try to disentangle it. I pulled away from her, from the woman who had felt more like a mother to me than anyone else on the planet, my own mother included. I wanted to scream at her, I wanted to run away, I wanted to dig a hole in the industrial carpeting and hide forever. But then my brain reminded me, "Lucy." I palmed my eyes. God, what was I going to do? I took a breath. Someone was talking. It was like him, but wasn't him. Oh, Carlisle. What was he saying?

"It's really not that bad, Bella, nothing's going to change. The custody arrangements –" he broke off, as if someone had warned him off of mentioning that word again. Too late; I heard it; my brain heard it. Custody. The worst had happened. I had lost custody of my daughter, of my reason for living. Gone. Gone. She was gone.

A scream built in my throat but came out gurgled; I pulled my hair more but felt less; my legs started to come to life and finally I was ready to do what I should have done weeks, no months, ago – what I would have done in a heartbeat if I had known it would come to this, if I'd even known it _could_ come to this.

Springing up, I looked wildly around for my purse. It had my car keys in it. Shit. It was in the courtroom. Summoning everything I had, I looked at Carlisle and said, so calmly it scared me, "I left my purse in the courtroom. I have to go back and get it."

I started to turn for the doorway, not wanting to give….that man one more second to reappear and crush me again. Carlisle stopped me with his voice; it was careful, cautious. "Edward has it." Then, as if that weren't devastating enough, he repeated, "Your purse is with Edward."

I froze. "Why?" I asked, as if the future of the universe, of my universe, didn't depend on the answer.

Carlisle didn't respond. Instead, I heard a sob from Esme, and then felt her hand on my arm as she said, "Oh, honey."

That did it. I broke. I couldn't trust them anymore; I couldn't trust anyone. I had to run. I had to get out of here and back to my daughter. I had to take her away. I'd figure it out. Just. Go.

Finally, my feet started to move towards the door, slowly the first couple of steps then working up to a run. My hand was on the handle and then I was flinging it open, sensing pursuit behind me, ignoring their voices. Running out the door, I crashed…into Edward.

xXxXxX

I wasn't a second too soon. Just as I was reaching for the handle, the door opened wildly, narrowly missing my body, and Bella burst out of it, headlong into me. I saw her before the impact, so had time to brace myself, and was ready to wrap my arms around her the moment she crashed into me.

She fought. She fought hard. "Shhhhhh," I said to her wildly thrashing head, "Bella, honey, settle down and let me get you home. Then you can get mad at me, okay?"

"No!" she almost yelled. A security guard made an appearance. "Is everything okay, Sir?"

Shit. No it wasn't. This was turning into my worst-case scenario. I pulled out my trump card, and I played dirty.

Bending down to speak into her ear while I held her head against my body, I said, "Bella, if you don't settle down right now, they're going to take you away from me, and Lucy away from you." That did it. Her body went dead still; the fight completely gone. Silent sobs took its place. I wanted to cry too.

Instead, in record time I picked her up again, and cradling her against me, strode so quickly out of the hallway, then the lobby, then the courthouse entryway, then out the doors and to the parking lot, that I left my parents far behind. By the time I had Isabella in the back seat of my parents' car, grateful that I had had the presence of mind to linger behind the others upon our arrival this morning in order to set the child-safety locks on both the back doors, my parents were jogging up to the car themselves.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Carlisle said, and I grimaced and nodded, then slid in next to the shaking girl in the corner. Picking her up, I positioned her limp body on my lap before strapping us both in. It was dead quiet on the trip home. Even Esme's usual chipper optimism seemed defeated by the despair hovering in the backseat. Carlisle parked in the garage and lowered the garage door again before anyone stirred, and that was Esme saying "I'll get the soup on for lunch," before getting out of the front seat.

Then Dad turned around and asked me, "Do you need any help getting her in the house?"

I looked at him doubtfully. He was getting on in years, and even in his prime had been more of a runner than a weightlifter. He was all brains and not much brawn, and I wasn't sure he was psychologically willing to tackle Bella either. I needed help all right, but I needed someone who wasn't afraid to throw down, even with a desperate little girl. I needed a fighter. I needed Emmett.

"Call Em, ask him to come over right away," I answered my Dad. He nodded, looking relieved, and exited the car quickly, locking it first. He was thinking the same thing I was. Bella stayed in the car until we had a safe way of moving her inside, and of keeping her there. I hadn't thought this part through, I realized. I'd been too optimistic. I'd been naïve. I'd been in denial.

No more. As we waited for Emmett, Bella's sobs becoming louder now, her fight starting to ramp up again, I started thinking about what I'd gotten myself into; what I'd gotten us into. I wasn't going to be able to leave her alone for the foreseeable future. I didn't even think I could leave her with Esme, or Alice. I was in the middle of strategizing my way out of all my business trips for the next six months when I heard the locks click and felt the door next to me open.

"Hello there, big brother, little sister," I heard Emmett say, with humor thank God.

"Hey, Emmett. Thanks for coming," I said, with more sincerity than he had heard from me ever.

"No prob., Big E," Em said with a wink, his joke name for me not grating the way it usually did. I was just grateful for his brawny presence, and his apparent willingness to accept the situation. I wasn't counting on the same acceptance from the rest of my siblings. Especially Rose.

As if reading my mind, Emmett said, "Man, Rosie is going to be _pissed_ when she hears what you did, but I have to say, I think it's great. Ballsy enough, too. But main point is, little thing here is where she needs to be, and with who she needs to be with. That makes it well done, my brother."

And with that surprisingly solemn declaration of approval, Emmett reached down and, without preamble or permission, scooped up my girl and started out of the garage with her in his arms.

Bella must have been as shocked as I was at Emmett's action, because she went perfectly still, just staring up at him with wide eyes. Em, on the other hand, was smiling down at her and joking, as if it was just another day at the Cullen household—when he wasn't carefully opening doors and navigating stairs or corners.

Finally, he got to my 3rd-floor suite, and turning to me with his hand on my bedroom door, he said, "So this is where you want her, right?"

I hesitated, trying to think through what made the most sense. For the first time, Em's cheerful demeanor slipped. "Shit, bro, you seriously didn't think this through at all, did you?"

My eyes darted anxiously to Bella, not wanting her to be alarmed, but her eyes were closed, and she looked to be far away in her mind from the current situation. I couldn't blame her.

Looking back at Emmett, I shook my head "No."

"Well, fuck," he said softly, shaking his head as he opened the door to my room and marched on in. Pulling the covers back, he carefully placed Bella on the bed, then pulled her shoes off so tenderly you would have thought she was his girlfriend, not mine. Well, my girlfriend-to-be. If she was ever willing to speak to me again.

After pulling the blankets back up so tenderly too, he patted Bella on the shoulder, leaned down and whispered something in her ear, then stood up, crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "We need to talk," he said, a serious tone I didn't recognize from my happy-go-lucky brother in his voice. Waving his hand in front of himself, he indicated the door.

"Um, Em, I don't think we should leave her unsupervised—" I started, but he interrupted me with, "No shit, Sherlock, but neither should we have the conversation we are going to have—or I am going to have with you—in front of her. She may be half-asleep, but you can bet she's still listening." He half-turned back towards Bella then, and said, his usual cheerfulness and affection back in his tone, "Isn't that right, Baby B?"

There was a pause, and after Bella gave no indication of having heard him, or having any awareness at all, he turned back to me, his voice hard once more, and said, "After you, Asshat. We'll leave the door cracked."

Dejected, I headed back out the bedroom door. I couldn't even look at her a second longer in that moment. I had really f'd up by not thinking this situation through more, and I was swallowing back vomit at the realization of how badly I'd jeopardized Bella, and the fear that I wouldn't be able to fix it.

"What the FUCK were you thinking, pulling something like that without the planning you needed to carry it through? That is not _like_ you, Edward! You're usually such a controlling prick, and now, when that could really come in handy and do some good for someone who really needs it, you choose to just go with the flow? Jesus, I swear if you weren't my f'in brother I'd have you up against the wall right now, pounding your useless head into it. What the FUCK, Edward?"

As Emmett paused for breath, I snapped into motion. Hearing him echo my own inner assessment prodded me right out of shock and self-pity and into fix-it mode. "Yes, Emmet, I have almost totally fucked-up here, the almost being that at least she's safely asleep –or maybe safely catatonic—in my bed right now, and not running off to that rat-trap apartment she was planning on renting. I am definitely going to need your help to fix this, and I'm glad you're willing to give it."

Emmett looked relieved to see me accept full blame so quickly, and the rigidity went out of his aggressive stance right away. "Christ, Edward," he said, but this time sounding more worried than angry. "What are we going to do?"

"You are going to watch over her every second until I get some other things arranged so that I can do that myself. Can you get the day off tomorrow?"

"I can get the rest of the week off if need be."

"That would be fantastic, Emmett. I didn't set things up at work the way I need to. If I could go in a couple days this week, tie up some loose ends there and get what I need to work from home, then I can take a leave of absence for as long as I need to."

"You're going to take a leave of absence from your _company_?"

"I don't see any other option, do you?"

Emmett blinked, as if considering, then said, "You know, Mondays are always slow days for me. I've joked with Rosie before that I should just stop taking clients then, because half the time the ones I do have call to cancel. Too much weekend fun, you know."

I stared at him, surprised. He jokes that I'm married to my company, but I know that he loves the physical therapy & rehabilitation business he's built up himself too. For him to offer—he must really love Bella.

He read my mind. "Dude, you're not the only one who cares about her. She's always been such a sweetheart, and to watch what he's done to her…Well, it's about time she was part of this family. I always figured she would be—just maybe a little sooner, and less dramatically, than this."

I smiled. "Our Bella has a flair for the dramatic."

He laughed. "Which means she'll fit right in." Then he got serious and looked as if he'd just remembered something, which was probably the case because the next words out of his mouth were "I have to call Rosie."

I waved him off to the hallway, sure he would give Rosalie a colorful commentary on my lack of planning, and not really in the mood to hear it. Besides, I had something really important to do right that moment.

So I walked back into my bedroom, where Emmett had left a floor lamp turned on low, and sat down on the bed next to Bella, who had curled up in a ball with her arms over her head. "Bella," I said, quietly. I didn't get any response at all.

I tried again. Pulling gently against one of her arms, I said, "Sweetheart, would you look at me please?"

This time there was a sob, and she tightened up more tightly, turning into the bed.

I couldn't help it; I laughed. It's not that her fear and pain were humorous—they were not. It's just that her own sweet self was so predictable. And with that realization, I knew—really knew—that she would be all right, because I would make her that way. I had all I needed to know stored up from years of watching and loving her from afar, and now I had the opportunity to do everything I had longed to do all that time.

All my optimism and happy excitement came rushing back as I gathered her uncooperative body up in my arms and pulled her into me, then, holding her against my chest, laid back against the pillows with her on top of me now.

She was still holding strong, body rigid, trying not to relax into me. But as my hand stroked down her back, over and over, while my other hand held her head securely against the warmth of my chest, I felt her body rebelling, and slowly, slowly, melting.

I almost had her completely unfolded out of her defensive ball when Emmett came in the room, opening and shutting the door behind him with his characteristic vigor. "Rosie's up for it, man," he said, at normal volume, before registering Bella's position on top of me. Which quickly morphed back into a tight ball, and I let loose a small glare at Emmett. But not too much of one, because he'd come through for me that night, and for her, and I was 100% confident I could unwind her all over again, so it was just a minor setback.

"Sorry, man," Emmett stage-whispered, as he pulled up a chair next to the bed.

"It's all right, Emmett," I said quietly back, my eyes not on him, but on her, fighting one of the innumerable battles she and I would have from now on, and losing as she inevitably would, over and over, because no other outcome was acceptable to me. Her eyes were closing too this time, the lids getting heavy, then snapping open again as if she'd just berated herself not to go to sleep, not to give in to the peace and rest she so desperately needed.

I leaned my head down and whispered in her ear, "It's all right, Isabella. Go to sleep, and you can be mad at me tomorrow. I'll keep you and Lucy safe. I promise."

She startled at the mention of Lucy's name, and her tear-filled eyes flicked up to mine for a vulnerable moment. I stared back at her, willing her to see the sincerity and seriousness with which I made that promise. I think they both registered, because next her eyes were closing, and then her body was relaxing, and sooner than I would have believed, she was asleep in my bed, on my chest, in my arms, and all was right with the world.


End file.
